


Unconscious

by BlackCats



Category: Kagerou Project, Mekakucity Actors
Genre: Gen, Hallucinations, Narcolepsy, Odd Syntax, Vague shipping hints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 13:46:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3731125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackCats/pseuds/BlackCats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, her nightmares are a little <i>too</i> real.<br/>(Takane, a restless day, and the dreams in-between.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unconscious

Today…was proving to be an _especially_ arduous day.

Dragging her hands down her face in an impressive display of aggravation, Takane shut her eyes tightly for the span of about three seconds before gripping the edges of her desk and glaring daggers at her current assignment. There might as well have not been anything at all on the sheet of paper so innocently poised upon the surface—the characters ran together in a blinding amalgamation of black ink and white spaces. No matter how hard she blinked or how badly she strained, _nothing_ came into proper focus.

The irritation rolling off of her in waves had sent Sensei scurrying out of the class—apparently picking up some _files_ from the main office—and even Haruka, at her side as always, was proving wise enough to give her some breathing room. She pretended not to notice the little aside glances he kept casting her way, instead concentrating on trying to make sense of her assigned work.

Three more minutes of an absolutely _pounding_ headache and eyes rubbed increasingly red, she gave up, burrowing her head into her folded arms and praying for sleep to finally take her.

Unfortunately her condition refused to surrender her so easily. Takane swallowed hard, her throat aching, shoulders and spine pulled into taut angles that _screamed_ her tension.

Sometimes, she couldn’t believe it was possible to be so _tired_.

“…Takane?” Haruka called to her gently, concern evident in every syllable of her name.

Near delirium scattered her thoughts like leaves in a storm. She turned her face to the side, opening one eye and attempting to focus on that familiar silhouette.

“…What? What is it?”

“Are you all right?” She heard his chair move, saw him inch a bit closer. Normally she’d tense up and scrutinize his position, checking to see if he was too close for her finicky comfort, but pure exhaustion kept her firmly in place.

She wheezed out a scoff. “Do I _look_ okay…? It’s one of _those_ stupid days…”

Haruka made a quie sound of understanding. They both knew what a “stupid day” was; it was when the smallest acts cost _enormous_ effort, when their very bodies seemed to rebel against the idea of living for another day. _His_ episodes were generally more frequent and severe, but today was certainly one of _her_ worst days.

(Sometimes it was believed Takane didn’t need to be in Special Education at all—moments like this removed any doubts.)

She let out a sigh. “This is just _infuriating_ …I mean, it’s not like I skipped on taking my medicine…I guess it’s not going to help out this time…”

“Do you need to see the nurse? Or maybe I should call Sensei?”

Takane shook her head and regretted it horribly; waves of fire began smoldering across her skull. A groan slipped out from between her teeth soon after. “N-No. No. They can’t do anything anyway…they’ll just try to get me to sleep, and I’d…rather do that here, with you…”

She missed the way he blinked at her words—slurred with weariness, dropping from her tongue like rocks—but she knew he was smiling before he even replied.

“I’ll stay right here, as long as you want.”

She’d die from embarrassment from that later, but right now? She simply couldn’t bring herself to care. Squeezing her eyes shut as tightly as they would go, she concentrated on the familiar scratching sound of Haruka’s pencil as he doodled upon his assignment, allowing it to lead her into a fitful slumber.

Sometimes when sleep came, it struck her all at once.

A rush of merciful blackness and white noise finally drowned her in its embrace, and Takane could’ve cried with relief.

\---

_In her dreams, the world is black and blue and racing with streaks of color that she can bend to her will with a breath, a thought, a touch of a finger. She can look out at the world from a thousand-thousand screens but she narrows it down to one and concerns herself with the occupant of the dark room on the opposite side._

_There’s a word that starts with an “M” that forms itself on her lips in greeting. It’s so familiar, so well-worn that the edges roll smoothly off her tongue in a sing-song vibrance that begins to draw a black gaze her way—_

\---

She awoke, but briefly, to dream again.

\---

_She’s running and running and she feels like these feet have pounded the cement for a hundred million miles since every step is just as familiar as the last. There’s a voice in her ears and a mask on her face and when she opens her eyes, she’s dreaming in red and electric blues and her feet stop being feet in a way that matters._

_It hits her mid-stride and she’s suddenly_ gliding, _sailing, soaring through a veil of black and chasing her own shadow farther and farther away into an unknown that’s_ known _, simply forgotten—_

\---

She stirred again in a fitful start.

\---

 _There’s so many_ dead _around her and she can’t see their faces because there’s nothing_ left, _nothing_ intact _but bones and muscles and tissues that say nothing without finer features to call their own. She feels like she’s breathing but she shouldn’t be, and there’s a figure smiling—_

“Takane?”

 _\--he’s smiling; he’s smiling at her, and_ it makes her so happy when he smiled.

“…Takane, can you hear me?”

A rising dread swelled within her, because _the lighting is wrong and his eyes are gold and his smile is a_ snake _scrawled fixed and broken in an angel’s face—_

He was upon her, _and his hands on her shoulders are so tight it **burns** \--_

“Takane!”

_“Takane.”_

She snapped awake _and so does her neck_ , flinching back in a flurry of movement so sharp and sudden that she almost fell out of her chair. Takane trembled, her eyes wide, scanning the breadth of the room in a desperate attempt to get her surroundings to stop spinning, to finally settle into something real and solid and stable.

“Takane?” Haruka repeated after a few moments had passed, his hand halfway extended. Her gaze flashed to his palm and he hurriedly pulled back. “Are you all right? What happened?”

“…N-Nothing. It’s nothing. It was just a nightmare.”

It was disgusting, the way her voice shook and broke. Takane looked away, settling awkwardly back into her seat as she struggled to calm her rampaging heart. The sun was setting outside the window, bathing their two-desk classroom in a shroud of fluorescent red.

“Where’s Sensei?” She mumbled, frantic to fill the silence before Haruka tried to.

She could feel his eyes on her. “He was here earlier, but I haven’t seen him in a while?”

A pause.

“Takane…” Rather than fuss over her anymore, he simply reached for one of her clenched fists and held it to him closely, right beside his heart, curling his fingers around her hand carefully. “If it was just a dream…then it can’t hurt you, right?”

She swallowed, wanting to snatch her arm back but reluctant to lose the soothing physical contact being offered. It was _just_ the right amount—not too much, and not too little.

“I told you, you’re…” A fidget. “Worrying about nothing.”

“Okay,” he agreed in _such_ a mild tone; he clearly wasn’t convinced.

“L-Like I said before! Just…stay with me for a while, so I can…catch my breath.” Finally looking over at him, she forced a smile for _his_ sake as much as her own. “We’ll walk home like we always do. Th-This kind of stuff happens all the time." Even putting up a front of exasperation was draining her. She looked to the side, out the window, squinting through the sunrays. "So...Stop looking so anxious.”

Her attempt at nonchalance made him chuckle slightly, and it showed as an odd glimmer in his eyes; she just…wasn’t sure _what_ emotion exactly that was.

“I’ll be right with you, Takane.”

He made her name sound so beautiful.

She focused on that, and the warmth of his fingers, to chase the remnants of the nightmare from her mind.

**Author's Note:**

> It's another one of my "written at 4am" fics, folks. You know what that means.


End file.
